Harry Potter and the Carny Army
by Mr. G
Summary: Parody on book 5-- you'd never know from the title. Inanimate objects with shifty eyes, that kind of thing. My first chapter and I won't continue without some good reviews so come on down y'all and get ready for some really random story.. dialogue...stuf


Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nope.

A/N: Hey crew! I see I've drawn you in. Couldn't resist anything alluding to a carny army, could you? I understand. Read along now, and I hope you like.

The hottest day of the summer was drawing to a close, and a stuffy silence hung over the disgustingly clean suburban street of Privet Drive. The painfully monotonous neighborhood was apparently devoid of life; however, upon further inspection, one would stumble upon a rather oddly placed and enormously freakish teenage boy. The boy was freakish for numerous reasons, the most obvious including, but not limited to: a disfiguring scar which could not be missed as it was placed in the middle of his large, misshapen forehead, his worn but somehow uniquely stylish outerwear, his exaggerated sense of teenage angst which spurred sudden outbreaks of a fierce and bitter rage, and, of course, his abnormal position. Oh! and the oddball also claimed to be a "wizard" currently attending a wizard school he referred to as "Hogwarts." But you, of course, are far more interested in the abnormal position bit. What was this abnormal position, you may ask? The monstrosity was lying in the middle of a flowerbed beneath a window belonging to a wall of the house known as Number Four, Privet Drive. Number Four was occupied by Harry's stereotypically evil aunt and uncle Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and his characteristically obese and ugly cousin, Dudley Dursley- a family which could only belong to a repressed and pitiable orphan-boy…thing. 

That said, we'll be moving on to the reasoning behind said abnormal position. The boy, Harry Potter- -by the by, where do you think he got that name? I mean, _Harry_ _Potter_? Just listen to it. What the hell is that? I know I'm not the only one thinking of some hairy potter. One more thing to add to the list of abnormalities, I guess- -Anyway, the abortion was not only situated in a group of flowers because he found they turned him on. Oh no, he was also stealthily listening to the daily news through the open window with his pulse racing and a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. No, it was not that the news turned him on as the flowers did- or at least, not as much. Harry had a habit of listening to the news, everyday fearing to hear of some threat that might have emerged in the wizarding world- that is to say, his world- and could be mentioned in the Muggle news as something less suspicious. He was reduced to hiding in a flowerbed because his stereotypically evil relations also stereotypically discouraged any attempts to do anything that could be construed as intelligent or worthwhile. 

Harry's suspicion regarding the wizarding world and the emerging threat within it was pretty much the only reasonable thing about him, as you will soon discover. His suspicion is very much related to the whole wizard/Hogwarts idea, so that's where we'll go first. You see, Harry Potter is not really mad- that is to say, he isn't insane- because the wizarding world actually does exist. He _is_ mad though, or if he isn't now he will be shortly. Angry that is. And although he isn't the insane kind of mad, most people would think so, given his strange tendencies. And that's not only Muggles, but wizards too- for an entirely different reason. However, I'm getting off topic. Actually, looking back, I'd just got on topic again. See, the wizarding folk think Harry Potter is insane for the same reasons that he is listening to the daily news with such… ahem! enthusiasm.

As it were, last year at Hogwarts Harry Potter had privately witnessed and publicly announced the return of the most feared and revered, His most awesome opossum, He who would rule the cruel, the evil Loooord Vooollllllldemort. Harry has _quite _the bone to pick with his evil highness. You see, Voldemort had killed off both of Harry's parents at an early age, and had so doomed him to the offensively cliché orphan-life he now lead. The only spark of happiness in Harry's tragic family life is his newly discovered godfather, Sirius Black. Let's all hope that guy doesn't die in the duration of the upcoming school year, adding yet more angst to Harry's already outrageously angsty life. Yep, that would suck. However, Voldemort had been presumed dead the same day that he murdered Harry's parents and our dear orphan insolently defied him by not dying. He shall, in his insolence, be killed. That is of course, unless he happens to kill Voldemort. We all KNOW this, don't we? Anyway, in an unfortunate and unexpected turn of events, the idiot Minister of Magic refused to face up to the hard truth of his evil highness' return, and he continues to use his influence to discredit Harry Potter and his personal hero, the man with the plan, the Headmaster of Disaster, before whose power all would cower, the amazing and amusing- Mr. Albuuuuuusssss Duuuummbllledorrrree. It is for this reason that Harry Potter is believed to be the insane kind of mad by the people of two different worlds. Actually, that's kind of impressive.

Now that we've gotten through the basics, it's time to get down to business. As Harry listened once again to reports of sunshine and daisies, and the tortuous lack of significant happenings, his very poorly repressed rage began its familiar ascent to the surface. He was sick of not having a clue what Voldemort was doing, sick of being in the dark, and most of all, he was sick of Play-Doh. At that precise moment, a terribly insensitive puff of wind had the gall to ruffle Harry's perfectly mussed hair into quite an imperfectly mussed arrangement. The blood rushing to his face, and a yell rising in his throat, Harry very unfortunately happened to look down at the ground. An extremely pompous looking pebble was staring at him. It looked at Harry almost as though it thought him…mad?! (the insane kind, of course) That was just the last straw for poor Harry- he leapt to his feet, the rage inside him bursting. Unfortunately, he didn't make it all the way to a standing position. Someone had irresponsibly placed a large windowsill outside the window, and quite misfortunately, it was made of rock hard steel with sharp corners. The sound that resulted was rather like a duck caught in a blender, if you can imagine such a thing. Naturally, a sound like that would draw the attention of the family inside, and when Uncle Vernon spotted Harry under the window, he had a thing or two to say.

"Petunia!" he hollered- in an extremely stereotypical fashion. "That damn boy is trying to learn stuff again!"

"Nothing like our stupid oaf of a son, Dudley" replied Petunia proudly.

This comment made Harry so angry that he shot large fireballs out of his eyeballs at Uncle Vernon, who held him by his throat. He was immediately released and ran off into the sunset, laughing like a maniac.

P.S.: I love you. I love you because you have read my story. And I, of course, KNOW that people who have read my story will continue to click that cute little boxy thing and tell me what they think. REVIEW!!!!!!!!! _Please._

J J J And Have A Nice Day! J J J 


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